Night Before Christmas A RanKen Christmas Carol
by 83rd Twilight
Summary: A Holiday fic. Ken is brokenhearted. Ran is a jerk. A night of epiphany. Will they live happily ever after? Second Chapter up. Enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Awww, let's see… on my wish list this Christmas, I wish to own of Weiss… yeah right… not gonna happen in this lifetime… but it's nice to dream… (think of all the RanKen action potential… Hentaiyarou author gets bopped!)

My first RanKen post! And it's a Christmas special!

I've been rummaging through my CD's last week (Christmas cleaning sucks!) and found my Weiss series under the rubble. I realized that I haven't watch them in years so I popped up the last three episodes together with some popcorn and this story plot turned up from nowhere.

So who's up for some Holiday angst/drama with fluffs on the side? (Looks around…) No takers… oh well…

Title: A Ran x Ken Christmas Carol

Author: 83rd Twilight

Genre: drama, angst, romance and -fluff?

Main Pairing: RanxKen of course, mentioned, OmixNagi

Warnings: This story I slash, shounen ai, yaoi, malexmale, etc, etc. so if it's not your kind of flavor that's fine, might I suggest some other fluffy Holiday fic somewhere.

Oh yeah other warnings, the usual: language, situations… This might get fluffy (shudders)… or not…

This is cliché stuff, but I haven't read a fic done the RanKen style and it's been nagging me for several days now so…

Here's my very loose take on "A Christmas Carol": RanKen Style. Guess who gets to be Scrooge?

Like you wouldn't figure that one out: )

Hope you guys read and review. It would be a nice Christmas present… (hohoho!)

Story time…

A Ran x Ken Christmas Carol by 83rd Twilight

A loud noise reverberated through the empty second floor hallway as a door was slammed none too gently. The whole place was eerily dark, foreboding and dreary for December evening. Footsteps were heard rushing down the concrete steps and moments later another bang of a door being shut echoed softly from main entrance downstairs.

Inside one of the rooms, the sole occupant of the whole building at present time was sitting on a neatly made bed, one knee drawn up to support an elbow, and looking out the open, slightly foggy glass window. The thick, black turtleneck sweater and matching black jeans gave little protection to that pale and lean frame from the chilly winter breeze that seemed to enter with a sense of spitefulness in the dimly lit room, only to be mirrored by the callousness of a numbing heart that could be found within.

He liked it that way. One could almost say that he, Ran, a.k.a Aya, Fujimiya, welcomed it with open arms. The cold, the chill, the iciness, the frosty countenance of winter. Earlier this evening he had been accused of being the most insensitive, most cruel-hearted, rudest, meanest, grouchiest, saddest, most despicable bastard in existence.

How could one ever beat that?

Oh well, he believed that he had worked extra hard to deserve those titles. He took them as compliments rather than the hard-slung insults they were supposed to be. Why should he be particularly nice just because the Holiday season was here? Why should he be any different just because people around him celebrate a hideously hypocritical occasion called Christmas?

Think about it, most people run around all nice, wearing goofy smiles, and waste hard earned money to give others ridiculously overrated presents for one day a year before reverting back to their own miserable selves for the rest of it. It never made much sense to him.

Perhaps there was a time when he had been one of those pathetically happy little souls who looked forward to the horribly Capitalistic invention of gift-giving that encouraged a lot of profiteering and unnecessary squandering of time, money, labor and other resources just for the sake of receiving some sort of empirical reciprocation or some other forms of emotional gratification.

But that had been in another place.

That was a time long gone.

That was another life.

He had learned since then that this season changed nothing. Most wishes will always just be wishful thinking. Problems will still be there the day after Christmas. The bills won't pay themselves away. His parents will still be dead tomorrow. His sister will still be lying on a coma-induced sleep when he wakes. His hands will still be stained with the unwashable crimson blood of his victims. He will still be a murderer come nighttime. He will still be alone. So he decided to take the practical path. Unlike the rest of the world, he would not to be an escapist during this time.

It was bad enough that he had to tolerate the plastic holiday décor and extra-cheeriness of the customers and his workmates at the flower shop, he had to deal with their pestering that he join winter wonderland as well all day? He cringed.

He told them in very few, carefully chosen words that included pathetic, ridiculous and moronic as adjectives that he would not, and would never participate in this farcical celebration just because everyone else decided to play charlatan and pretend that everything's all right in the world for one day.

Of course his blunt statements got him into a heated debate with the resident skirt chaser that ended with someone walking out and someone nursing a bruised cheek.

It wasn't him.

That incident got the atmosphere quiet and he spent the rest of the day in peace, without the irritating buzz of off-keyed Christmas carols. Just the way he preferred it.

Then there was the recent spectacle of the evening: a heartfelt confession of attraction and some other form tender sentiment coming from a certain athletic brunette by the name of Ken Hidaka.

He laughed.

Seriously, that was what he did.

It wasn't like he could help it. Sure, the soccer-playing klutz was the perfect example of that pretty-boy-next-door archetype, and he had enjoyed several romps with the man considering that he cuts both ways, but a serious, emotional relationship? He didn't think so.

They were assassins. Murderers. Killers. The last thing they needed was emotional baggage when they set out to do their job. He was never one to be against mixing business with pleasure but attachment was another matter. He didn't know what the hell he did to make the brunette think he'd be welcoming anything more that a hard, decent fuck every now and then. He was pretty sure that he had been painstakingly clear on setting firm and concise lines that very first night. He remembered agreeing that their involvement would be nothing more than mutual physical release of tensions, hormones and extra adrenaline that usually comes after missions. That was it. There was nothing in their verbal agreement about some other emotional rubbish. He was certain that he never treated the younger man any differently outside their almost nightly encounters.

Ah but then, Ken had ever been the idealist who believed in silly notions of happily-ever-afters, of redemption and second chances, of miracles, of… love. The brunette's beauty, naiveté and ability to trust almost implicitly combined with that quick temper always seemed to get him in trouble. But these were the very qualities that Ran found amusing. Perhaps these were what drew him to the other man. The semblance of innocence and fire that he had lost somewhere long ago and those bloodstained hands that matched the weight of his sins was more than heady enough to make him indulge in the temptation of corrupting the younger man's romanticism with hot, passionate, uncomplicated lust.

Well, it was fun while it lasted. He would bet his money that Ken was out in some empty park or bar right now indulging in self pity, muttering strings of unhealthy expletives directed at one redhead, intoxicating that pretty little head with alcohol, while pouring his heart out to some random stranger, that most probably end up with him waking in some unfamiliar bed with some nameless face on Christmas morning.

Somehow the last scenario left an unsettling feeling on Ran's stomach that he chose to ignore. Why was he thinking of that man anyway? Perhaps he was just disappointed that he had lost his regularly available supply of a bedwarmer.

Hn. What was love anyway?

Ken had been quite nervous and hesitant when he approached and confessed. The softly spoken words of 'ai shiteru' resounded in his ears like some kind of foreign music. Unfamiliar, strange, incomprehensible, and somewhat funny. So he laughed.

He quickly realized that it wasn't the reaction his companion had been anticipating as the other started to hastily walk away with a look of anger and insult written all over that handsome, sun-kissed face. He recalled grabbing the younger man's arm and speaking in a low, mocking tone dripping with sarcasm.

"_Were you expecting some sort of affirmation on my part Kenken. Would you want me to say the words back? Because you know, that's quite easy. People often spout the words enough without meaning them."_

"_Let me go!"_

_The brunette tried to yank his hand out of the other's firm grip without much success._

"_Tell me do you want a declaration of undying devotion and eternal love?" Ran asked studying his companion's face._

_He found himself on the receiving end of a dark angry look._

"_Damn you to hell! How can you just stand there and mock my feelings for you!? I know for a fact that you might not care for me the same way, but least learn to respect me, you bastard!"_

_Ken would have punched him with his free hand had he not been able to reflexively block the blow. _

_He looked at the other seriously._

"_I'm sure I'll see you in hell Ken. You know that I don't go in for that sentimental crap. And I don't want to hear it from my fuck buddy as well."_

"_Well fuck you!" The soccer player struggled against his hold once more, red-faced from humiliation rather than anger. _

_He finally released the arm that he was holding be fore smugly replying._

"_Already done that. Not yet tonight though."_

_He watched as the other man strained to rein in that infamous temper._

"_You're a cold, unfeeling bastard Aya. I don't know why I had to fall in love with you, and waste my very limited time here on earth for the likes of you!"_

"_I didn't ask you to love me." He blandly replied._

"_But I did anyway," was the soft reply as Ken looked away._

_He raised an eyebrow._

"_Then that's hardly my fault now, is it?"_

_The other turned back and glared at him again._

"_You could have been a bit nicer about it, considering its Christmas!"_

"_Why should I? It's just some artificial, man-" he began._

"_Don't even continue that. I'm starting to think that you must have experienced a horribly traumatic event during Christmas when you were a child."_

_When he saw the other's face change from anger to what seemed like the beginning of sympathy he coldly interjected._

"_You don't know anything about my childhood, Hidaka."_

_The brunette answered him quite sedately._

"_Yes, I don't. But it must have been really terrible, for you to be much more sadistic during this time of year." _

_Now the tables were turned as Ran slowly lost his temper._

"_You're threading on a very thin ice." He gritted out. _

_He heard an ironic chuckle._

"_Oh really? You're thickly encased enough both of us."_

"…"

_Out of the blue, Ken walked towards him and slammed him painfully on the wall and leaned towards him. For all of two seconds Ran thought the brunette would actually kiss him until stopped short about an inch away from his lips before hissing. _

"_You know, one day you'll wake up and have reality bite you in the ass till you bleed and then you'll realize that you don't want to be alone anymore but nobody will be there because no one's willing enough to comfort a miserable, icy jerk like you!"_

_He looked straight into those blue green eyes._

"_I'm not dreaming to live that long anyway."_

_Tanned hands let go of his sweater._

"_I don't think you're even alive right now!"_

_He mentally sighed._

"_We're assassins… that's the closest thing to what is known as the walking dead."_

_Ken stared at him with an eerily calm resolve. _

"_Wrong. We're assassins, it means we have one foot on the grave, so we have to cease each day and live."_

_He smiled sardonically._

"_How romantic."_

_The ex-professional soccer player laughed. _

"_You wouldn't know romantic even if it was slapped in your face."_

"_Too true." He deadpanned._

_Ken had had enough. His tanned hands clenched and his body shook slightly in frustration._

"_You know what? Screw you. You'll never change. I don't know what possessed me to confess my feelings."_

_He just shrugged in response._

"_You and me both."_

_His younger teammate began to push past him. _

"_I'm leaving, Aya. It's over. You might not want to talk to me for a while, unless by some Christmas miracle, you come to your senses. But I won't be waiting forever."_

_He spoke as soon as he heard the doorknob twist open. _

"_Don't wait for me Ken. I won't be coming round." _

_A moment passed before he heard the passionate reply._

"_I see. Well then, Merry Christmas then you wretched, sadistic prick!"_

_And the door closed with a slam._

End Chapter 1

A/N: So what do you guys think? Should I go continue with the Ghost of Christmas Past? Do review. Please.

This story is bout five chaps long and I'll be posting the last chapter on the 24th or 25th.

Thanks.

83rd Twilight


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Weiss didn't, does not, and will not ever belong to me. ok?

A/N: Hmmm... thanks to the-secret-i, shiba, huskysiberian, eli and Shaylawa for the review!

Here's the second installment. Enjoy.

And i hope you guys review! Happy Holidays!

Chapter 2

It was close to midnight. He needed some shut eye. He grudgingly admitted to himself earlier that his teammate's words unnerved him a bit, and thus he tossed and turn for half the night replaying, denying, arguing, analyzing, and contemplating. Or maybe it was because he got used to falling asleep after some tiring bouts of bedroom exercises. He finally concluded that what happened wasn't worth losing precious sleep over. They might have some mission tomorrow or something. But then again even Kritiker might be engaging in some of the remarkable traditions of the season, including the one which permitted reprieve of murdering some despicable menace for one day of the year. His lids were starting to get heavy when suddenly…

CRASH!

BOOM!

What the hell? It's still much too early for New Year, damn it! What does it take for a man to get a decent night's rest around here?

All of a sudden, he felt blue sheets being yanked off of him and his body was pushed from the bed, landing quite forcefully on the cold floor. The window opened and the icy wind rushed in making him shiver. The whole building shook as the lights flickered open and close for several moments before the room finally plunged into darkness.

Ah great… even his dreams are against him tonight. It's turning into one of those poltergeist flicks. He must tell Omi to stop renting those boring, overrated, noticeably fake horror movies.

"Ran…"

Huh? Okay, now he's hearing voices. Next thing you know, he'll come face to face with some horrid epiphany or something. It's quite funny when you dream that you are aware that you are dreaming, if that made any sense.

"Ran…" a voice repeated. He froze. That voice was frighteningly familiar. But…

"Ran…"

He looked around but there was no one there.

"O… Okaasan?" he answered hesitantly. This was the first time he heard his mother's voice in ages. It's been years sine he last heard that well-loved sound that the memory of it was getting fainter in his consciousness.

"Ran…"

And then it came. A white entity appeared in front of the window and rushed towards him. It seemed to pass through him, bathing him in an eerie chill and rattling the rest of the things inside his room. The luminescent form went through the walls before slipping back in and finally stopping in before his sprawled figure. He looked up to meet very familiar violet eyes. He felt his fingers trembling slightly as he reached up to touch the diaphanous form of a woman, in the very likeness of his much-missed mother, only to feel nothing but cold air.

"Ran…" She gazed at him with gentle eyes.

"Okaasan." His throat was unexpectedly quite lumpy then and there and his eyes felt an odd stinging sensation.

"My son. I have so little time. Get up." The apparition beckoned to him.

"Is that really you 'kaasan?" He asked.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not." The specter answered somberly. "What does it matter? I have so little time to spare for idle talks right now. Come, I've something to show you."

His mother's figure drifted to the window and reached out an almost transparent hand.

Ran stood up to take the outstretched arm but paused. "Where are we going?"

"Just come. I don't have much time." The spirit pleaded.

Ran eyed her with some suspicion. "Why should I-"

"Ran Fujimiya. You will take my hand and come with me at this moment." His mother's ghost held that tone that she would use on him as a child when he was being troublesome or naughty. It gave an impression of finality and left no room for arguments. He never had never been immune to that.

He touched the icy air that was her finger and felt his surroundings crumble from beneath his feet. He landed unceremoniously into the hard, concrete pavement of a very memorable street, hitting the ground back first.

His mother glided in front of him, steady and unruffled. "What are we doing here?"

His mother looked at him with somber eyes. A certain sadness radiated from those amethyst gaze. "We're going to go back to the past Ran."

Ran shook his head and frowned.

"I don't need to reminisce anything."

The ghost drifted beside him looking at him with interest.

"Such a hard young man, you turned out to be. I don't think your father and I raised you to be like that."

"Things change, 'kaasan." He looked away unable to meet her silent scrutiny.

A cold, translucent forefinger touched his chin willing him to look up. He felt shame eat away his innards as he saw her small, sad smile.

"And they took a turn for the worst, it would seem."

Ran bowed his head once more before replying.

"I didn't have a choice."

His mother floated beside.

"People always have choices Ran."

He glanced her way and said, "Well, I made the choice of avenging the destruction of my family."

His mother gazed into the distance.

"And in turn you are destroying yourself."

He took a step forward, keeping his back to his companion.

"Well what would you have had me do? Let him get away with what he's done? I was young and I had neither money nor resources to bring a powerful bastard like him down, and Aya…"

His mother's soft interruption reached his ears.

"What you could have done is not for me to say. Your life is yours to live Ran."

He turned around to gauge her reaction as he asked a dreaded question.

"Does my being an assassin make me any less your son, okaasan?"

The ghost of his mother was before him in a blink of an eye and her chilly palms reached for his face.

"My dearest Ran, you will always be my beloved son, no matter what you do. You father and I love both you and Aya unconditionally. We may question your choices but our hearts will always be open to you. Always Ran. Remember that."

Alien tears rose but remained unshed on that pale, handsome face.

"I'm filthy and broken inside. I can admit that to you and not to anyone else. I don't deserve your affection."

See-through arms embraced his slightly trembling form.

"Oh but you do, my son. You need it much more than you think you do. To deserve something or not is a matter of perspective. As I've told you when you were younger, if you get something good that you think you deserve accept it with good grace. If you get something good that you don't think you deserve, then do your best to prove that you deserve what was given to you."

He wanly smiled.

"You awfully remind me of someone else, kaasan."

His mother released him and movd forward to a very recognizable structure.

"Oh do I?" She then beckoned him to follow her through a wall. "Don't worry, you'll get through, we're inside your memories, in a manner of speaking.

They slid through the solid wall and Ran smiled at the scene that unfolded before him.

Four people sat around a dinner table filled with various dishes and scrumptious treats. The mood was very festive and it was anything but quiet. It looked very much like a happy little family celebrating a joyous occasion.

"This was Christmas dinner when I was seven years old."

"Yes and you insisted we celebrate Christmas the ways your classmates do, with lots of bright lights and a Christmas tree. You were such an enthusiastic child."

"I remember Aya always clinging to my leg that night. She was fascinated with the red laces of my new green shoes and I would gently pry her off my foot so I can run and play with the battery operated plane you bought me but she wouldn't let go."

"And when you got her off she cried and threw a tantrum until you took off the shoes and gave it to her."

"And I remembered how she would reach for the presents under the tree and try to chew the ribbons."

"You also gave your father and me your first Christmas card."

"This was a happy Christmas, kaasan."

"Come, let's see some more."

His mother smiled and suddenly they were standing on snow covered ground. Many people were milling around. The familiar figure that was his much younger holding a red box tied with a gold ribbon. Red tinted his cheeks as he ran towards three people who were waiting for him a few meters away. Ran idly watched the memory come to life before him.

"This was the Christmas when I was thirteen. We went to a ski resort in Hokkaido after Otousan was promoted."

"Yes, and you had the cold afterwards for frolicking too much in the snow."

"That was the year I learned how to ski. I hated that plum colored scarf, kaasan. Why did you make me wear it?"

"I thought it looked cute on you."

"Hn. Aya kept teasing me about being a walking red plum for days."

"But you were a very cute red plum."

"I remember you and 'tousan making us a cup of steaming hot chocolate as we opened our gifts."

"Yes and you received your first present from an admirer if I correctly recall."

"Kaasan! She was just a new friend I made at the resort. Aya was impossible after that. Always singing some Christmas love song when she was around, it became quite awkward."

"Are you pouting?"

"Won't you be if your sister is always screaming love songs and make kissing noises whenever your first crush walks by?"

"Those were precious moments, 'kaasan. Spending time with our family, I never fully appreciated it until…"

"There were some more happy ones that came after weren't there?"

"Yes. But then everything came to an abrupt end."

The scene gradually faded as more images passed by like dream. And then, it was just Ran and the ghost of his mother that was left.

"All things come to an end, my son. You know that. It was just a question of how it will end. The world is uncertain, that is why one must make the most out of life."

"But it wasn't fair. I wasn't even given a chance to say goodbye. And then Aya…"

The woman before him chuckled.

"That sounded like whining Ran. I thought you discarded that habit years ago."

"It's just…"

His mother's tone turned serious.

"Ran, listen to me. Do not make past tragedies as excuses for self-destruction. That is not what we would have wanted."

"You wouldn't have wanted me to be a murderer either," he replied.

"We cannot change the past, and we must live with the consequences of our actions and decisions," the spirit said. "But you see, we can still do something about our future."

"Kaasan…"

She shook her head and interrupted.

"Let it go Ran. Find peace with the past. You can't ever change it no matter how much you yearn to. Don't let it haunt you like a shadow. You father and I will always watch over you."

Ran gaze at the spirit longingly.

"I miss you kaasan. You and otousan. So much."

"We miss you as well dear boy. And we love you. You must remember that. Whatever you do we love you unconditionally. Be strong for us and for Aya. Love yourself and learn to open that overly unused heart in there."

"Kaasan." He was overwhelmed.

Then she said something unexpected.

"That pretty brunette looked quite hot."

He looked up at her surprised.

"Okaasan!"

There was that mischievous gleam in her ghostly eyes.

"But it's true."

"Sakura?"

His mother slightly frowned.

"Sakura? I thought his name was Ken?"

Again all he could do was gape.

"Ken? Oka-"

Cold fingers silenced his lips.

"Hush. Follow your heart Ran. I'm sure you've heard and read about that advice a lot. Maybe it's time you take it."

"But I don't…"

Once more he was silenced.

"My time here is almost over."

"Stay, please," he pleaded, not wanting to lose contact with her spirit too soon. There's so many things that he had wanted to say.

"I'm afraid I can't, Ran. There are two more spirits who will come to visit you before this night ends."

Her cold arms enveloped him briefly one last time. And in that instant he did not feel the chill but thought sensed the warmth of her motherly love, he was only sorely disappointed that he could not return her embrace.

"Kaasan…"

She let go and pressed a kiss on his forehead.

"We'll be waiting on the other side Ran, when it is the right time."

Then she was gone. Just like that. He found himself alone in the middle his dark room staring out the open window.

And for the first time in three years, several tears slid over those pale smooth cheeks.

End chapter

A/N: if all goes well i'll post the next chap by the 24th.

till then enjoy the holidays minna!

ja!

83rd Twilight


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